


A Fork in the Road

by Viridescence



Series: Orbit!Verse [3]
Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:06:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridescence/pseuds/Viridescence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alan Ackles meets an old friend for lunch, and is looking forward to an afternoon of catching up, reminiscing, and general merriment.  Instead, he ends up confronting his issues about his son, Jensen, that have contributed to him not speaking to Jensen for nine years.  Turns out that examining your prejudices is <i>hard</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fork in the Road

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** A Fork in the Road
> 
>  **Author:** [Viridescence](http://viridescence.livejournal.com)
> 
>  **Rating:** R (for language, frank discussions of homophobia and references to sex)
> 
>  **Fandom:** Supernatural RPF AU, CW Network RPF AU
> 
>  **Verse:** [Orbit!Verse](http://archiveofourown.org/series/8875)
> 
>  **Characters/Pairing:** Alan Ackles, OMC, references to established Jared/Jensen, but neither of them actually appear in this story
> 
>  **Betas:** pimmie, [starlitshore](http://starlitshore.livejournal.com), [rurounihime](http://rurounihime.livejournal.com), thank you all SOOO MUCH!! ♥♥♥!!!
> 
>  **Warnings:** Explicitly confronts homophobia and bigotry, extensive non-PC and some offensive discussion of religious and non-religious arguments against homosexuality
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a work of FICTION. I do not own Alan, Jensen, Jared, or any of the characters who have real lives, and it's a pretty safe bet that none of this EVER happened and that this story in no way reflects the actual sexual orientation or relationships of the real people included in the story. No harm is intended. No profit is being made. I’m just borrowing their names and likenesses to play in my own alternate universe.
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** This is a bit of a character development piece I did for the story I'm working on as a sequel to _[Ours is a Reciprocal Gravitation Orbit](http://viridescence.livejournal.com/166073.html)_ (on AO3 [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/135294)), and it occurs about two, two-and-a-half years after the events in that story. I think it could largely stand on its own, but potentially it will make more sense if you've read Orbit first. I wrote this as an exercise to get into Alan Ackles' head, and it ended up being a lot longer than I expected. It does not fit in the actual body of the sequel, so I've decided to post it as a timestamp in the _Orbit_ universe. This story is told entirely from Alan's point of view, and it is a prelude to some things that happen in the as yet unnamed sequel (which I'm hoping to finish for the [spn_j2_bigbang](http://spn-j2-bigbang.livejournal.com) challenge next summer). This story is dialogue-heavy, no plot or action to speak of other than lunch being devoured, and I don't promise that this story is for everyone. It deals explicitly with anti-gay sentiments, and as such it isn't a very fluffy or fun piece. It serves only as a look inside Alan's head as he struggles to come to terms with Jensen being gay.

  


  
**A Fork in the Road**  


* * *

Alan hands his keys to the valet parking attendant and makes his way inside the foyer of the restaurant. The sudden dimness is a marked change from the blazing sunshine outside, and for a moment he stands there blinking, allowing his eyes to adjust.

"Good afternoon, sir," comes a pleasant female voice in front of him. "Just you today?"

"I'm meeting someone for lunch," he tells the seating attendant. Her dark hair is short and spiky with a few blonde strands near her forehead. She looks to be about fifteen, but she's probably closer to twenty if she's working here.

"Name, please?" she asks.

"The reservation is under John Kingsley."

She looks down at the reservation book, and Alan can see the swirl of a tattoo peeking out from under her collar. He tries not to sigh. Why people mark themselves up like that, he cannot fathom it. It's one thing if it means something, like when soldiers in the military get a tattoo symbolizing their service, but kids these days think it's "cool" and permanently disfigure themselves for a passing fad. Alan thinks it's ridiculous. He's glad that none of his children have tattoos—he raised them to respect themselves. Well, he doesn't know about Jensen anymore. Hasn't known anything about Jensen in a very long time.

The seating attendant looks back up at him, and Alan catches her name tag. Rebecca. She smiles at him. "Mister Kingsley has not yet arrived, and we're still preparing your table," she says, perky and cheerful, revealing a tongue stud.

Alan mentally despairs for today's youth and forces himself not to roll his eyes. She is being quite polite, after all, and he does have manners.

"If you will wait here," she gestures to the padded benches in the foyer, "we'll seat you momentarily."

Alan nods. "Thank you."

Sitting down, Alan checks his watch. He's a few minutes early; he got lucky with the Dallas traffic. He's really looking forward to seeing John again. They went to middle school and high school together, best friends as teenagers. Alan hasn't seen him in about ten years, though they've kept in touch through phone calls and emails. John's a cinematographer in Hollywood now, and he's in town scouting a location for a movie. Alan's just glad John was able to schedule time to have lunch with him.

The door to the restaurant opens and two men walk in. Alan recognizes John immediately; he's a bit thicker around the middle now, but still tall and lanky. His once-brown hair has gone almost entirely gray and has receded more than halfway across his scalp. He's wearing thin, wire-framed glasses that are obviously bifocals. He looks so much older than Alan remembers, and he wonders if he will look as old to John.

John is talking to the man next to him, who is tapping on a Blackberry. Neither of them have noticed Alan yet. "I don't care if we're scheduled for a meeting at two," John says. "Reschedule it. Block out the whole afternoon. I'm going to spend time with Alan."

"Okay," the guy says. "I'll call Cecelia and reschedule for tomorrow."

Alan notices that the guy is young, mid-twenties, has dark-blonde close-cropped hair. He looks quite masculine and very professional in a dress shirt, tie and nice-looking jeans. When he looks up, Alan can see that his eyes are green.

Alan has a sudden flash of Jensen's face—this kid looks a lot like his son—and a wave of anger and sadness washes over him.

The young man has noticed Alan now, and he nudges John, gesturing in Alan's direction.

"Alan!" John's face lights up, and he throws his arms out in greeting.

Alan stands and steps over to John, pulling him in for a brief hug. "John!" he says, slapping his friend on the back heartily. He pushes all thoughts of Jensen out of his mind as he focuses on here, now, seeing John for the first time in a decade.

"Good lord, Ackles, you got old!" John says, grinning widely.

"Speak for yourself, baldy," Alan retorts, feeling smug. Despite being silver-haired himself, he's kept most of his hair.

John lets out a guffaw. "Goddamn, it's good to see you, Alan! How are you?"

"Good, I'm good."

"Outstanding!" John turns to the other guy. "Scott, I'd like to introduce you to my old high school friend, Alan Ackles. Alan, this is my personal assistant, Scott Walsh."

Alan reaches out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Scott."

"The pleasure is mine," Scott says as he shakes Alan's hand with a confident grip. Up close, he looks less like Jensen than Alan first thought. "John's been looking forward to seeing you all week. He's spent more time telling me stories about your high school days than actually working."

John and Alan both laugh at that. "Hey, I'll have you know—"

A cough behind them interrupts John's protests. Turning around, Alan sees Rebecca standing there with menus tucked into one elbow. "Excuse me gentlemen, will there be three of you?" She's probably wondering if they'll need to add a place setting to their table.

"No, no, just the two of us," John says. "Scott has other plans for the afternoon."

"Very good, sir," Rebecca says. "Then your table is ready."

John turns back to Scott, patting him on the shoulder. "If I'm taking the afternoon off, you should, too. Go do something with Brian, catch a movie or something. I'll call you when I'm done."

Scott breaks into a wide grin. "Thank you, John, that will be fantastic. It was very nice to meet you, Mister Ackles," he says, turning to Alan once more. "Have a great lunch."

"Thank you," Alan replies. "It was good to meet you, too."

"Have fun!" John says, waggling his eyebrows.

Scott blushes slightly and walks out of the door with a quick wave of his hand.

John sniggers next to Alan. "They probably won't leave the hotel room," he stage-whispers.

Alan frowns, not getting the joke.

John looks over at him and chuckles. "Still oblivious, Alan?"

"What? Oblivious to what?" Alan asks, confused.

John doesn't answer the question but instead takes his elbow and directs him to follow Rebecca. They sit down at an isolated table near a window, and Alan is glad to see that the glass is tinted to prevent heat transfer. Rebecca presents them with menus, delivers her spiel about lunch specials, and promises that their waiter will be with them momentarily.

Once she's left them alone, Alan reiterates his question. "Oblivious to what?"

John doesn't look up from his menu. "To any possibility outside of your worldview."

Alan can feel himself getting annoyed, which he doesn't want to do. The last thing he wants is to have an argument the first time he's seen John in years. So he takes a deep breath and patiently asks, "What do you mean?"

John looks up and his face is kind. "Scott is gay, Alan. His boyfriend Brian tagged along for the trip, and they haven't been able to do anything together yet because Scott and I have been working. So I gave Scott the afternoon off to spend with Brian."

Oh. Alan frowns as he tries to wrap his head around that, the familiar sensation of disapproval churning inside him. It's always something he has a hard time understanding, particularly since Jensen came out. "He didn't look gay," Alan blurts, and he knows how dumb the words sound the moment they're out of his mouth.

John's eyebrow lifts, and despite the additional lines on his face, Alan can clearly read the "are you kidding me?" expression John's sporting at the moment. "There isn't a 'gay' look, you know. Not all gay men are effeminate or drag queens, and not all lesbians are bull dykes."

Alan scowls and looks down at his menu. He doesn't like the subtle disappointment curling in John's voice. It sounds too much like the disappointment (among other even less happy emotions) in Jensen's voice before he moved out.

There is a long moment of awkward silence as they both look at their menus. Thankfully, their waiter appears to take their order.

Alan orders a Philly cheese steak sandwich with chili-cheese fries and a beer. John also orders a beer, but chooses a grilled chicken salad. Alan mentally sniggers at the girly order.

"So, how is your family?" John asks once the waiter has left, smiling.

Alan returns the smile, grateful that John seems to be changing the subject. "Great! Donna keeps busy with the Church—she heads the women's group and organizes the church volunteer work. Josh is a detective in the Dallas police department now. He's married; his wife Stephanie is a nurse. And Mackenzie is a junior at Texas A&M."

"Holy shit," John says, grinning. "Time flies. Last time I saw Mac she was in pig tails and was missing her two front teeth."

Alan laughs, remembering his daughter at that age. "She was such a handful. A delight, but a handful of spitfire and stubbornness. She definitely hasn't grown out of _that_ ," he says. He doesn't say that Mac has outright refused to listen to him or Donna regarding Jensen. No, she is on Jensen's side and never misses an opportunity to let them know how much she disapproves of how they handled Jensen. Josh is more reserved, but he is also clearly on Jensen's side. They've both been particularly cross with him and Donna recently over them not attending Jensen's "commitment ceremony." Not for the first time Alan wishes he knew how to heal the rift in his family, but it feels more desperate now. This latest dust-up left Alan feeling gouged and raw, and like a festering wound, he can't seem to get Jensen off his mind. But he still doesn't know how to handle his son being homosexual, and Jensen refuses to not be… _gay_ anymore, so they're left at an impasse.

Instead of voicing his thoughts, he turns the conversation to John. "How about you? What's the latest with your family?"

John looks at him a moment, one eye squinting slightly, the same expression he'd always used when he could tell that Alan wasn't telling the whole story. But he lets it go and grins. "Raquel is wonderful," he says, referring to his wife. "She's in New York at the moment, costuming a film for Universal Studios. We're not working on the same movie this time, unfortunately. The house just isn't the same without her there, so it works out well that I'm here this week."

Alan smiles at that. John clearly is still madly in love with his wife, even after thirty years together. "What about Dylan?"

"He's going to film school at UCLA and is working as a PA here and there for the experience. I think he's interested in going into directing." John's eyes glimmer with pride as he talks about his only son.

Their waiter delivers their beers and two glasses of water at that point, interrupting their conversation.

Alan sips the head off his beer, enjoying the splash of bitter. When he looks up from his drink, John is giving him a speculative look. "What?" he asks, feeling defensive.

John gazes at him for another moment before taking a deep breath. "You didn't say anything about Jensen, Alan. How is he doing?"

 _Goddammit_ , Alan thinks. He should have known better. John always did like Jensen, the rambunctious kid he was before he turned into a quiet, closed off, _confounding_ teenager. He frowns, wondering how to broach this topic, if he even wants to.

"He's okay, isn't he?" John asks, his voice alarmed. "Nothing has happened to him?"

Alan feels a surge of frustration and irony well up inside him, and he would laugh if he didn't think he'd start crying. _Of course, nothing happened to Jensen. He just turned queer._

"He's fine," Alan says. "From what I know, he's fine. He lives in LA, actually, so you're closer to him than I am." The layers of truth in that statement sting. Alan hasn't been close to Jensen since he was in junior high.

"What do you mean, from what you know?" John pushes. "When was the last time you talked to him?"

Alan can still remember that last conversation. Jensen was eighteen and refused to live in Alan's house anymore if they wouldn't accept his homosexuality. Jensen was so angry and hurt; Alan was rigid, hoping desperately that Jensen would cave rather than move out. Alan hadn't really wanted to kick his son out; he'd wanted him to live up to his own standards of acceptable, _moral_ behavior. But no, Jensen left, refused to conform, and Alan hasn't spoken to him since the day Chris Kane helped Jensen move all his stuff out, the two boys carrying furniture with scowls etched into their faces.

"Alan?" John prods.

"April 5, 1996," Alan answers.

John gapes at him for a moment. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. Did you just say that you haven't spoken to your son in nine years?"

Alan frowns and takes another gulp of his beer. "That's right," he mutters.

"For God's sake, _why_?" John sounds completely stunned and disappointed.

The waiter arrives then with their meal, and Alan quickly takes a large bite of his chili fries to avoid answering the question. "That isn't really any of your business," he mumbles, the melted cheese burning his tongue.

John thanks their server and then turns shocked eyes back to Alan, who takes a huge bite of his sandwich before he's even finished with the fries. "Fine," John says, wounded, looking down at his plate.

Uncomfortable silence rules for a few minutes as they eat their meal. Alan regrets snapping at John, but he doesn't know how to return them to their previous levity.

John finally breaks the silence. "I understand it's none of my business, and if you really don't want to discuss it, that's fine, I'll let it drop. But Alan, it seems to me that you need to talk about this. I'm your friend; you can talk to me. What happened?"

Alan continues chewing his sandwich, not even tasting it. It annoys him that John is still able to read him so clearly, even after a decade apart. Regardless, John is right on both counts: he does _not_ want to talk about Jensen, but at the same time, he feels like he really needs to—the words are bubbling in his throat, pushing to get out. This need supersedes his annoyance at John.

The truth is that the hole left in Alan's heart when Jensen left has never healed, never stopped aching. It's been more intense lately, and he's beyond weary of it. He's tired of being angry at his son, of missing Jensen as if he'd lost an appendage, of not understanding him. He wants to stop arguing with Mackenzie and Josh about Jensen; he wants Donna to stop despairing about Jensen's immortal soul. He wants his son back, and back to _normal_.

None of this makes him feel any more comfortable with the concept of Jensen being gay. Why anyone would choose to be like _that_ —he barely contains a shudder—is beyond him. Why did Jensen insist on being different than how Alan raised him to be?

Alan knows, however, that if he continues to refuse to bend on the issue, he'll never talk to Jensen again. He has to either compromise his expectations and values, or lose his son forever. He made one choice when Jensen was eighteen, and it cost him nine years and counting of no contact with his son. He does not want the rest of his life to be filled with stubborn radio silence from Jensen and angry disapproval from Mac and Josh.

Swallowing, Alan makes his decision. John seems to know something about the homosexual community, and he obviously works well with his gay assistant; maybe he can provide some insight that will help Alan make sense of his situation with Jensen, some piece of knowledge that can help him bring Jensen around.

He looks up from his plate to see his friend watching him, a contemplative look on his face. Gone is the shock and disapproval; John seems open and patient now. Clearly he recognizes that this is difficult for Alan.

"Jensen…" Alan starts, and then he gulps down a mouthful of beer. "Jensen hasn't spoken to me since he moved out shortly after he turned eighteen."

"Why?"

Alan frowns. This is harder than he expected; he's accustomed to _not_ talking about Jensen. He's used to feeling ashamed about it—about having a fag for a son and guilty for how he handled it. Taking another deep breath, Alan sighs. "Donna and I discovered that he had started engaging in homosexual activity, and he admitted it when we confronted him about it."

"Oh, Alan," John whispers, his face taking a pained look.

Alan can see him connecting the dots in his mind. He doesn't want to see the disappointment in his friend's eyes, the judgment he knows will be there. So he looks down at his plate and figures he might as well continue his explanation. John will push for the whole story, and Alan feels the words bubbling inside him, years of repressed anger, frustration, pain, and confusion, pushing to get out now that he's started talking about it.

"Donna wanted Jensen to go to a religious camp to help him choose the right path," Alan says to his fries, "but he refused, and seeing as he'd just turned eighteen, we couldn't force him. He said that it was just the way he was born, that he couldn't change it and didn't want to. To say the conversation did not go well is an enormous understatement. Donna and I told him that we wouldn't have that perversion in our house, hoping that would get him to change his mind, but instead he left. He finished out the school year living with his best friend Chris, and then immediately after he graduated, he and his friends moved to Los Angeles."

He peeks up at his friend, expecting to see disapproval. But John just gazes at him as he eats his salad, listening, his face contemplative. He gestures for Alan to continue.

"Donna and I haven't spoken to him since he left. Josh and Mackenzie took his side, though they are still talking to us, at least, when they're not arguing with us about him. We hear bits and pieces through them about what he's doing every now and then. He went to USC, just finished his Doctorate in English, and published a novel a couple of years ago that won some big gay literary award. He's 'committed' with a guy named Jared, and they live together in the LA area. And that's really all that I know about him now."

Alan frowns, feeling angry and frustrated. He should know his son better than this. Jensen has this whole adult life now, and Alan's missed so much of it. Jensen seems to be going on with his life just fine without Alan. He uses his fork to push the coleslaw that came with his sandwich around on his plate, not eating it.

"How do you feel about it now, Alan?" John asks, cutting up a large chunk of chicken. "Do you miss him? Or are you glad he's gone?"

Despite John's casual tone, Alan can tell that his answer is important to him. He knows that John will lose all respect for him if he says he's glad Jensen is gone. Luckily, Alan can't say that. "I miss him. I've missed him every day since he left. But I don't know…"

"How to handle him being gay?" John finishes.

Alan nods.

"Yeah, I can see how you would struggle with that."

"I don't understand how he could do that, _be_ that way," Alan says, his frustrations spilling out of him. "I didn't raise him like that; I raised him with morals, but he insists on… he's so goddamned stubborn... Well. You seem to know something about the… 'gay community,' John. Maybe you can… I don't know. Give me some insight here?"

John's eye twitches, and Alan thinks he looks like he's trying not to get angry. _Shit._ But then John takes a deep breath and lets it out in a gush. "Okay, I can tell that you and I have very different opinions on this issue. But you are my friend and I care about you and your family, so I'm going to do what I can to help you understand. I'm gonna ask you a few questions, and I want you to _really_ think about them before you answer."

"Christ," Alan mutters, dropping his fork onto his plate with a _clank_.

"Hey, we don't have to do this," John says, his hands up placatingly. "I'm just trying to help you, here. That's what you asked me to do, and it really seems like you could use it. I'm not going to call you a bigot— know how your father instilled some very traditional notions of masculinity into your head. But it appears that you need some perspective here, a different perspective. It's up to you if you want to hear it. You can continue on as you have been and keep not talking to Jensen, or you can go through some personal growth and have a chance at understanding your son. It's your choice, Alan."

"How is 'personal growth' going to help me figure out how to get Jensen back to normal, John?" Alan asks. "I need to understand how to help my son, not myself."

John gives him a sad smile. "Alan, Jensen _is_ normal. There is nothing you can do to make him not be gay. _Nothing_. And if you continue to insist on trying to change him, you will drive him away permanently. That's just the way it is. The only thing you can change in this situation is yourself. You can figure out a way to accept Jensen the way he is, or you can count on being estranged from him for the rest of your life."

 _Goddammit_. "How can I accept him when he insists on engaging in such immoral behavior?"

John sighs. "You can start by trying to understand things from his perspective. And accepting him doesn't mean that you have to approve of him or change your beliefs. Just stop disapproving, at least."

"I don't know, John."

John just shrugs at him, palms up. "It's up to you, Alan. You're the only one who can mend things."

Alan takes a bite of his sandwich and follows that with another gulp of his beer, thinking. Dammit, why does _he_ have to be the one to change? He stabs his knife into the other half of his sandwich, angry, and then slumps back into his seat. _If you do what you've always done, you get what you always got_ , he thinks. As much as he hates to admit it, John is right. This is what he needs to do, no matter how painful it might be to really consider another perspective. Well, let it not be said that Alan Ackles is a coward.

"Alright."

John gives him a supportive smile. "Okay, then."

There's a quiet moment as they both eat a bit more of their lunch. Alan feels a slight sense of impending doom, but he tries to shake it off. Maybe this won't be as bad as he thinks.

"What is your primary objection to Jensen being gay?" John asks.

A number of feelings surge simultaneously inside of Alan, including _eww, anal sex, painful, filthy, exit hole only, gross_ , _it means he's a pansy boy, submissive and lets himself be dominated, and I didn't raise my son to be a woman_ , _it's an abomination to God and I don't want him going to Hell_ , _it's perverse and abnormal, and queers are sexual predators, and I'd never be able to live with myself if Jensen became a predator_ , _I'm so worried my son will be abused, mistreated, or contract AIDS_ , _he's never going to find true love, because true love is only possible between a man and a woman; all homosexuals care about is sex, and he's never going to be truly happy_ , _he'll never experience the joy of having children_ , and _what did I do wrong as a father that my son turned out queer, and what does that say about me?_ It's hard to decide which of these thoughts is primary, though. After a moment, he decides to go with the reason he's most familiar with speaking.

"The Bible says—"

"Is this you or Donna speaking?" John interrupts. "I know she's very religious, but I also know you never really cared about going to church until you married her. So is that what _you_ believe, or are you repeating what she says?"

Alan frowns. "I believe it," he says. "Donna is more devout than I am, but I believe."

"So you attend church every week because you really want to, not because she prods you?"

Alan is about to say yes, but John is wearing a look that says he thinks Alan's full of shit. Dammit, John always could tell when Alan was lying. He sighs, capitulating. "Alright, you got me there. I believe, but I'm less invested in it than she is. But I like to keep the peace in my house, so I go to church with her."

John nods, smiling. "I understand you there. You gotta keep your wife happy, so you do things with her that she likes. Like shopping," he says with a groan. "Raquel always drags me out to the artisan markets, and I become the shopping cart, burdened down with bags."

Alan laughs. "I know that feeling!"

John gives him a commiserating grin. "So when it comes to your religious beliefs, Donna is... stricter than you are?"

Alan takes a sip of his beer, and then nods. "Donna believes in a very literal interpretation of the Bible," he says. "Me, on the other hand, well, I think there are a lot of 'abominations' in the Bible, and they can't all be _literally_ true, so it takes some interpretation to get the true meaning. I think the parable of 'do unto others as you would have done to you' is more important, really."

"And have you treated Jensen as you would want to be treated, by your own parents, for example? By calling him names and kicking him out of your house, the house he grew up in?"

Alan falls back in his seat, feeling like a dagger has just been plunged into his heart. It would have killed him if his parents disapproved of him as strongly as he has disapproved of Jensen. Even now, in his fifties, he always wants his parents to be proud of him. "No," he whispers.

John gives him a sympathetic smile. "Well, we're working on changing that. Keep that in mind, though. So if it isn't the religious objection that you have to Jensen being gay, what is it?"

"I just don't understand how he could choose to be… like that. That's not what I taught him…" He gestures with his hands, unable to find the best word to describe his feeling.

"Think back to when you were a teenager, when you were just hitting puberty," John says, pointing at him with a chunk of lettuce speared on his fork.

Alan looks back at his friend, surprised by the change in subject. The memories come, though, and Alan recalls the two of them simultaneously becoming fascinated with girls, how exciting and mysterious and alluring the girls were, how their world shifted from being focused on sports and comic books to obsessing over which girls had grown breasts and trying to figure out how to see ass or cleavage. Sports and comic books had fallen to a lower priority than chasing skirts. "God, we got up to some crazy shit, didn't we?"

John smiles. "Yes, we did. Do you remember when I fell out of the tree because I was trying to see down Barbara Mason's shirt?"

Alan erupts into laughter. "And you broke your arm and she hovered over you until your father showed up, and you got a good up-close look down her shirt!"

"And feel, when she cradled my head. She was the first to sign my cast," John says, smiling at the memory.

Alan laughs louder. "You sly dog! She had no idea, the poor girl."

John smirks. "But at any point when you first started noticing girls, was there ever a moment when you said to yourself, 'okay, I need to choose—do I like girls or guys?' Did you ever contemplate being interested in guys and then decide that no, girls were more your thing?"

"Of course not," Alan says automatically. Guys had never entered into his head, not like that. It wasn't even something he knew was a _possibility_ , not until he was in college and heard rumors about some queers in one of the dorms.

"No, you were just interested in girls. And could you, for the sake of experimentation, or curiosity, just decide one day that you find men sexually attractive?"

Alan physically shudders. "God, no." Just… _no_.

"See? There wasn't ever any choice involved. It's just your biologically determined sexual orientation. You're just straight, and that's all there is to it. Sexual orientation is really a continuum, and people can fall anywhere on the scale. You just happen to fall on the straight end of the scale. Jensen is on the gay end."

"I don't know…" Alan says, sensing where John is going with this.

"It's the same thing for gay people, Alan. There isn't any choice involved. It's biologically determined—genetics or prenatal hormones, or some combination of physiological factors. Choice has nothing to do with it. Gay men are just biologically oriented to be attracted to men. Lesbians are just biologically oriented to be attracted to women. And if someone _can_ actually make a choice, sit down and decide between men or women, then that person is bisexual, not straight." John finally eats the hunk of salad on his fork that he's been gesturing around with as he speaks, letting his point sink in.

Alan thinks about that. "Even if that's the case, that still doesn't mean it's normal or natural."

John swallows his food. "Alan, you're a college educated man, are you not?"

"Yes." Alan fails to hide his annoyance at the note of sarcasm in John's voice.

"Then you should know damn well that the word 'normal' means 'most common.' It does not necessarily mean 'right.' And homosexuality has been observed in hundreds of animal species, and in every human culture on the planet for all of recorded history. Of course it's natural."

"We should be better than animals, we're intelligent, moral beings," Alan retorts. "Besides, the human race would die out if everyone were homosexual."

John gives him a long-suffering sigh. "Is there _really_ any danger of the human race dying out, Alan, when we're at over six _billion_ people? And gay people have always been a small percentage of the population, less than about ten percent. The other ninety-plus are perfectly capable of perpetuating the species."

"Well, then why haven't queers died out, gone extinct, if it's supposedly genetic? They can't reproduce."

"That's not true, they do reproduce," John insists. "I personally know of a number of gay and lesbian couples who have biological children. And they have straight brothers and sisters with shared genetic material who also reproduce. Most gay people are born to straight parents."

Alan supposes John has a point, _if_ he's right about it being biological, which Alan doesn't quite believe. He thinks it's more likely that it's just what the gays are saying to try to get people to accept them. But it's pointless to argue over it, as John clearly does buy that argument. "But the sex," Alan says, getting right to the basest part of his objection and feeling quite dirty even thinking about it.

"What about it?"

Alan's mind sticks on "ewww…" again, but he doesn't want to admit to the disgust he's feeling.

It must show on his face, though, because John chuckles. "What business is it of yours what anyone else does in bed, Alan?"

Alan makes a face, admitting that John has a point. "Yeah, but it's not natural like sex between a man and woman, who are natural, complimentary opposites. And I can't imagine it would feel good. It has to hurt. There can't be any love in that. Why would they do that if it's painful? What is wrong with Jensen that he would like that kind of pain?"

John chuckles again. "Obviously you've never had your prostate stimulated."

Alan shakes his head, surprised by the question. "Of course not!" He winces at the thought.

"If you had, you would know that it can be very pleasurable. And there isn't necessarily anything wrong with Jensen. Being on the receiving end doesn't mean that he likes pain, and how do you know if he tops or bottoms?"

Alan blinks. He'd just assumed Jensen would take it. It had been a recurring theme in his nightmares when they first found out that Jensen was queer: his son submissive, bent over, taking it up the ass from faceless dirty men. He never imagined Jensen being the one doing the dominating, which is another disturbing image in its own right.

John continues without giving Alan a chance to comment, which is probably a good thing. "It doesn't matter who pitches or who catches, Alan. Just like sex between men and women, sometimes it's intimate and loving, and sometimes it's just fucking. Do you really think that gay people are not capable of being in love with their partners? Do you think that Jensen isn't capable of loving, what's his name, Jacob?"

"Jared," Alan corrects automatically. "No, Jensen is one of the most loving people I've ever known, he has the biggest heart." It's true; Jensen was always a bit of a softie on the inside, and Alan knows that when Jensen loves, he loves completely. There is no way that Jensen _isn't_ in love with Jared.

John just looks at him as if he's just proved the point.

Alan sighs, frowning. He's been feeling angry, frustrated, and defensive since this conversation started, and it's beginning to overwhelm him. He knew this wouldn't be an easy discussion, but he expected his arguments to matter. But no, John has a counter to every one of Alan's points, deftly poking holes in all of Alan's logic, and he isn't used to not being on the winning side of an argument. It's frustrating, and it _hurts_ , looking this deeply at his beliefs, finding himself wanting.

"I know this is hard, Alan," John says, sympathy written all over his face. "How about we do it this way? I'll tell you what I know about the gay community, and you can just listen. Or, you can just ask what you want to know, and I'll tell you."

Alan nods, his throat tight. Somehow he managed to finish everything on his plate, but he doesn't remember eating it. Maybe if he takes a few minutes to just listen, he'll stop feeling this… uncomfortable.

"I live in Hollywood, and there are gay people everywhere. There's a lot of wild, crazy, bizarre sex there, of all kinds, straight and gay sex. Gays don't have the market cornered on sexual deviance by any means. Some of the kinkiest shit I've ever heard of is straight sex. But that doesn't matter, because I believe as long as there is no coercion or force involved, as long as both or all parties are adults and fully consenting, then it's none of anyone's business what they do behind closed doors." John takes another bite of his salad to finish it off, and then another swallow of his beer.

"It's wrong to say that gay people are sexual deviants or pedophiles. Sure, there are some twisted, predatory people among the gay community, but that happens at about the same rate as twisted, predatory people in the straight community. Pedophiles are much more likely to identify as straight, even the ones who go after boys. Most gay people I have ever met seem pretty normal. I've traveled all over the country, and all over Europe and other parts of the world, and there are gay people there, too. They're all just regular people, going about their lives, going to school, working, trying to support their families, trying to achieve their dreams.

"And they _do_ have families, Alan," John insists. "I know I said it before, but it bears repeating because so many people think that being gay is somehow anti-family. There are gay couples, lesbian couples all over the place raising children. The kids may not have been conceived in the conventional manner, but they do have children. They are family-oriented just as much or as little as straight people are. And kids who grow up in gay families are just as well-adjusted and happy as kids in straight families. Maybe even happier, because there are fewer 'accidental' kids in gay families. And unlike a lot of straight people, they _care_ about the gay kids who grow up in straight families. They want to give those kids all the support they need, whereas a lot of straight people want to deny that gay kids exist, tell them they're wrong, tell them to hide who they are, make them feel less than. As if hiding the existence of gay people from children will stop some of them growing up gay. It's not something they choose; it just is, and those kids deserve just as much love as any kid."

Their server interrupts John at this point by collecting their plates and offering dessert. John gestures to their empty beer glasses, asking Alan with his eyes if he wants another.

"Yes, another beer," Alan says. He _definitely_ needs another beer. He's listening to John, what his friend is saying is making sense, but there's this internal voice in his head that keeps saying, "yeah, but it's _wrong_."

John orders them another round of beer, and the waiter disappears.

"Are you okay?" John asks.

"Not really." Truthfully, nothing has been okay since that day when Donna found gay porn in Jensen's room.

"Do you want to stop? I'm doing this for you and Jensen, but if you don't want to talk about it anymore…"

Alan thinks about it a moment, furious and frustrated, and he doesn't know for sure who he's angry with—himself, Jensen, John, the world… He shakes his head. "No, it's just… hard. A lot to think about."

John grins at him. "Well, the Alan Ackles I know never backs down from a challenge."

Alan chuckles softly, feeling a little better. "I hear what you're saying, John, I do, but there's this part of me that is still stuck on _wrong, wrong, it's wrong!_ And I still believe that. It isn't right."

"So maybe the religious objection _isn't_ all Donna, then. Is that it? You believe that being gay is morally wrong because that's what your religion teaches you?"

Alan shrugs. He's not sure where that feeling comes from, it feels so deeply rooted, but religion is as good an explanation as anything else. "I suppose."

"Okay. Let me ask you this, then. Some Jews believe that it is morally wrong to eat pork, based on their religious teachings. Would you say that it is alright for them to outlaw pork for everyone in this country, based on their beliefs?"

"No!" Alan says immediately.

"Right. And some Muslims believe that it is morally required that women must be clothed head to toe in fabric, that only their eyes be seen, based on their religious teachings. Would you say that it is allowable for them to force their beliefs on all women in this country?"

"Absolutely not!" Alan is aghast at the idea.

"Exactly. And those things would never happen because this country is founded on the idea of freedom of religion. No one has the right to force their religious beliefs on other people who do not share those beliefs."

"Right, but the founding fathers were Christian, John," Alan counters. "They used Christian ideals when they wrote the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, and they meant for America to be a Christian nation."

John looks like the effort to not roll his eyes is supremely difficult. "I forget sometimes, you're Texan."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Alan snaps.

"I thought you were smarter than that. Good ol' Texas, leading the country on pushing Christianity into education," John says. "I love my home state, I still consider myself a Texan at heart. But it's true that religion is creeping into public education here, and it's a problem. Kids are being taught to question science and evolution, to believe in creationism or intelligent design. Important information about the founders is being omitted or glossed over. Have you read any of the founding fathers writings? Read any of their history? Or are you taking your history lessons from your preachers?"

Alan scowls at him. He can see John's point, but he's conflicted about it. On the one hand, he thinks it's good that kids are taught religion, but he isn't sure if that should be something done in public school.

John doesn't give Alan time to interject anything, his hands gesturing wildly as he talks. "Some of the founding fathers were Christian, some were Deists, some were Atheists. They didn't all agree on everything. But _many_ of them strongly advocated for a separation of church and state, primarily because many of the colonists were trying to escape from state religion in England. Thomas Jefferson wrote pages and pages about freedom of religion. About how no one should be forced into following a religion they do not believe. It's engraved in _stone_ at the Jefferson Memorial in Washington DC, if you want proof. And that's exactly what the religious people who oppose gay people are doing. Forcing their religious beliefs on others."

Alan frowns. He opens his mouth, preparing to say something about how the gay community is persecuting Christians for their beliefs, but the words die on his tongue before he can speak them as what John said takes root in his mind. Is that really what he's doing? Forcing his religious beliefs on Jensen? But Jensen is Christian, too. Or he was raised that way, anyway. He said he was done with it when he left. Told Alan to take his religion and shove it up his ass. And for once, Alan can see why Jensen would say that. Why would anyone stay in a church that told you you were wrong, deviant, immoral, and going to hell just for who you _are_?

It feels like sunlight dawning in his head. Alan still hears the "it's wrong, it's wrong" voice, but now, he wonders—even though it's wrong to him, maybe it _isn't_ wrong for Jensen. This feels like a huge thing, a big new idea, and Alan's going to have to mull it over a bit. He's always been more of a moral absolutist, but now he can see a case for moral relativism, and it's upending his world view.

The waiter arrives with their second beers then, and John thanks him while Alan sits there, mute with his new epiphany.

"You're looking pretty pale over there. You okay?"

Alan gestures futilely with his hand, his mouth open but no sound coming out. He gulps down a mouthful of beer, then coughs a little. "I don't know."

"What are you thinking?"

Alan can't even really figure that out for himself at the moment. This is getting to be too much, and he needs a moment to just _deal_ with the new understanding ricocheting around in his brain. So he goes for a diversion. "Just wondering why you haven't taken care of the landing strip on your head. You make enough money to do the Hair Club for Men thing, don't you?" he asks, smirking. He would never say such a thing to any other balding man, but this is John, and they grew up giving each other shit like this. Plus, he knows that John doesn't care; he never cared very much about appearances back in high school, unlike Alan.

John blinks at him for a moment. Then he bursts out laughing, falling back in his chair and clapping his hands. "Oh, you asshole! I've missed you and your dry barbs, Alan. You always come up with the best sly insults."

Alan has another flash of insight then, while John is still cackling. John always loved their back-and-forth insults, the way they teased one another and gave each other shit. They'd used it as a way to compete with each other, drive each other to better performance at whatever they were doing. Alan can see now that he continued that pattern with his boys, riding them a little hard to push them to excel. Josh had done fine with it. He had thrived, always pushed to one-up his father, prove to him that he was capable and gave back as good as he got. Jensen, on the other hand, well, that approach did _not_ work very well with Jensen, who often seemed wounded and closed off after Alan had been pushing him.

"I've thought about it, but it seems like such a silly thing to waste money on," John says, wiping at his eyes. "I've accepted that I'm getting to be an old man, and going bald comes with the territory." He looks up at Alan then and his mirth fades back to concern. "Uh oh, I see gears jamming in your head. What are you thinking?"

Alan repeats what he just realized, feeling even more understanding washing over him as he explains it out loud. It's disorienting.

John nods. "Josh did seem to do well with that parenting style, he's a lot like you. My impression of Jensen when he was eight or nine was that he had more of Donna in him than you, though he was still an obstinate little kid."

Alan agrees. "Jensen was… _softer_ , emotionally speaking, more sensitive, and whenever I pushed him, instead of pushing back, Jensen withdrew emotionally and focused on his own interests. He's so stubborn, like all of us Ackleses are—he still worked hard, did really well in school, but it was always on _his own_ things, not what I was encouraging him to do. Like writing and tennis, rather than science and football. He completely baffled me as a teenager—I never could seem to figure out how to relate to him."

"But you relate to your wife and daughter fine, right?" John asks. "You handle their emotional sensitivity just fine?"

Alan squints, not sure what John's getting at. "Yeah, but what do you mean?"

"You don't have a problem relating to emotional sensitivity when it comes to Donna and Mackenzie, but not Jensen?"

"Well, yeah, they're females. Jensen isn't."

"I see," John says, frowning.

"See what?"

"What is your definition of masculinity, Alan?" John asks instead of answering Alan's question.

"What? Why?"

"Is that one of the things you don't understand about Jensen, Alan? Does him being gay somehow make him less manly?"

Alan sits back in his chair, a little thrown by the question. "Well... yes."

"So what is your definition of manly?"

"Oh geez," Alan says, biting his lip. He's never tried putting it into words before, so he struggles for a moment to figure out how to explain it. "It's sort of one of those things that you just know when you see it," he says, contemplative. "Strength, physical and emotional strength. Providing for yourself and your family. Protecting your family. Loyalty. Working hard and taking pride in yourself and your work. Being honorable and always doing your best. Being interested in guy things, like sports, cars, and not caring so much about girly stuff like fashion or gossip. Not going on and on about _feelings_. Fixing things. It's hard to say, really."

"Okay, fair enough," John says. "You said earlier that Jensen played tennis rather than football. Tennis is a sport, yes?"

"Well, yes, but it's not…"

"What, it doesn't require stamina, endurance, physical fitness? It doesn't require strategy and tactics? It doesn't require technical skill?" John prods. "Do you know how _good_ tennis players have to be to go pro? How much work and practice they have to put in?"

"Well, yeah, I suppose. It's just… well, it's not football or basketball, you know, typical _American_ male sports." Alan feels frustrated just mentioning it; he can hear how biased it sounds. But it's how he feels.

John gives him one of his looks of forced patience. "Fine. Even if he didn't play football, was he interested in it, at least? Did he watch games with you, go to his high school games?"

"Yes. It was one of the few things we actually did together when he was in high school, watching the games."

John smiles. "Okay, then. You also said that Jensen was interested in writing. That he just published a book that won an award?"

"Yeah, he did. What was the name of it, again?" he mumbles to himself, trying to remember. "Something to do with Husband Trees. It was fiction, with gay characters. Won some foofy queer literary award."

John perks up. "Was it a Lambda Literary award?"

The name triggers his memory. "Yeah! That was it."

"Jesus Christ, Alan, your son won a Lammy Award?" John leans forward on the table, his eyes bulging in surprise. "That's _incredible_! Do you have any idea how talented you have to be to win an award like that? Do you know how much work it takes to write a book that is better than just popular fiction, something good enough to be considered _literature_?"

Alan is a little pole-axed. He'd never really thought about it like that, and he shakes his head in disbelief. "No, it can't… do you mean… is he really that good?"

"If he won a Lambda, he is. They may only award writing by LGBT authors, or about LGBT characters, but they are very discriminating, Alan. They don't just hand out Lambdas to anyone who can spit out seventy thousand words."

Huh. "Wow." Alan feels a creeping sense of pride in his son, something he hasn't felt since Jensen was sixteen or so. It's refreshing.

John takes a sip of his beer, and then looks back at Alan sharply. "Wait, did you say _Husband Trees_?"

"Yeah, that wasn't the full title, but I do remember that being part of it," Alan answers. The title never did make any sense to him. What the hell was a "husband tree" anyway?

"Was it perhaps _Growing the Husband Tree_?"

The name rings a bell in Alan's head. "Yeah, I think that's right. I haven't read it."

"Holy shit!" John sits back in his seat and runs his hand over his bald pate, making the hair on the side of his head stick out oddly. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

"No, I'm not kidding. What is it?"

"Raquel was just gushing to me last week about this book she just read, _Growing the Husband Tree_ , and how much she loved it, how beautifully written and inspiring it was. She wouldn't shut up about it and made me promise to read it. She's _hard_ to impress, Alan, when it comes to books, and she was amazed by this one. I actually bought it. It's at home, sitting on my desk, waiting for me to read it when I get back from this trip. That's _Jensen's_ book? Did you know that Oprah Winfrey featured that book in her book club?"

Alan blinks stupidly. No, he had no idea.

"Jesus, Alan." John shakes his head.

Alan feels a bit like he's been hit by a bus. He just sits there, and after a moment of silence, he swallows down the last of his beer.

"Okay," John says. "You also said that Jensen just finished his Doctorate, right?"

"Yeah, last year, from USC," Alan says, numb.

"Do you know the amount of dedication, perseverance, discipline, and hard work it takes to complete a doctoral degree, Alan?" John asks. "And from a highly ranked university like USC, to boot?"

Alan thinks back to his college days. He'd busted his ass just for his Bachelor's degree. He'd decided against more school because it was too much work, and he needed to get a well-paying job to support Donna, who was pregnant with Josh. "Shit."

"And what is he doing now? For work?" John asks.

"He's a professor at UCLA, in the English department."

"UCLA?" John looks astonished.

"Yeah."

"Barely finished with his Ph.D. and he's already a professor at UCLA? Not some unknown community college in Nebraska, but fucking _UCLA_?"

Alan sees where John is going with this, and for once, he gets the point without John having to spell it out for him. Jensen has obviously done very well for himself. "Yeah, my son teaches at UCLA," he says, smiling, that feeling of pride growing.

John smiles back at him, obviously pleased. "You also said he's with a guy named Jared, yes?"

Alan nods, the sense of discomfort worming its way back into his mind. _Jared._

"How long have they been together, do you know?"

Alan squints up at the ceiling, trying to remember. "Um, I'm not really sure about that. But I _think_ the first I heard about Jared from Mackenzie was when Jensen finished his Master's degree, and that was about two and a half years ago?"

"Okay, and they're living together in the LA area now, you said, right?"

Alan nods.

"They have a house together?"

"I think so, yes. Mackenzie and Josh went there last summer when Jensen and Jared had some sort of commitment ceremony for a civil partnership, or whatever gay couples can do in California. Mac talked about a celebration at Jensen's house with Jared, Chris, and all of their friends." Alan still feels quite conflicted about the whole concept. A domestic partnership is not remotely equivalent to marriage between a man and a woman, in Alan's opinion. Hell, "same-sex marriage" is not comparable to natural marriage as far as he's concerned, even if Massachusetts has legalized it. Goddamned crazy liberal state. Nevertheless, part of him had wanted to attend Jensen's ceremony, but that would imply that he approved of the relationship, something he still doesn't know if he can do, no matter how much he wants to reconnect with Jensen. Alan frowns.

"Okay then," John says, drawing Alan's attention again. He smiles, looking almost predatory. "So thinking back to your definition of masculinity, Jensen plays tennis, a sport that requires a lot of skill, even if it isn't football, but he enjoys watching football at least. He had the strength to move halfway across the country at eighteen, without any parental support, and make a life for himself in Los Angeles, a city that destroys kids that age right and left every day. He is loyal to his friends—you said Chris, his friend from high school, was at his commitment ceremony, so his friends are obviously loyal to him as well. He is loyal to Jared; they've been together over two years now. They committed to each other as legally as they could in California, and Jensen is providing for his family by having a good job and owning a home. He has the _strength_ , the emotional _fortitude_ to stand up for himself and say honestly who he is, and he has the _integrity_ to be true to himself and not compromise himself just because you don't approve of him. Jensen has worked very hard, is very good at what he does, has earned the respect of the literary and academic communities. Look how successful he is."

Alan swallows nervously. Put that way…

"How is _any_ of that not masculine, Alan? How does any of that fail to meet your standards of manliness? I won't go into how out-of-date your ideas of acceptable gendered behavior are, but I can't see how anything Jensen has done wouldn't live up to your standards."

"Jesus, John, don't hold any punches, why don't ya?" Alan says. That feeling of being hit by a bus is back, only now it feels more like a _train_. Holy shit.

"Can I get you gentlemen anything else?" comes a voice to Alan's left.

He looks over and sees their waiter, smiling politely at them. He sort of desperately wants another beer, but he has to drive home soon.

"Do you want another beer?" John asks.

Alan shakes his head. "I'm driving, so no."

"Do you have to leave soon?" John looks disappointed. "I was hoping to spend the afternoon together. Maybe we can catch a movie or something."

Alan smiles, feeling relieved that John isn't fed up with him. "No, I don't have any place to be. I just can't drive right now. But there's plenty to do in this area, or we can call a taxi."

"Great! One more round, then," John says to the waiter.

"Very good." The man nods.

"It's clear to me that you've got an incredible son in Jensen, Alan," John says when the waiter leaves. "Do you see what I'm trying to get you to understand?"

"Yeah," Alan says, feeling wrung out. "I hear what you're saying, and you've given me a lot to think about, but it's still hard. You're right, Jensen has been very successful, and I'm glad you helped me see that. But when I think of my boy being a queer, it just doesn't sit right with me. Men are supposed to like women; it's the natural order of things. I've believed that my whole life; I can't just change that overnight. And taking it up the ass isn't something that a man should _like_ to do. A guy just isn't supposed to be submissive in bed. It's… girly, I guess."

"Alright," John says, giving him a sad smile. "I didn't expect you to change your mind entirely based on one conversation. I just hoped to give you a different perspective, and get you to think about it a bit differently. But it looks like we _do_ need to talk about your idea of gender roles."

Alan gives a melodramatic sigh. "Do we have to question my _every_ belief, John? Can't I keep at least one of my prejudices?" He's only half-kidding. This has been a lot for him to go through. He's been very patient and tried very hard not to get angry or start fighting with John. He's not sure how much longer he can keep that up if John insists on examining every belief in his head. There's only so much self-analysis Alan can do in one sitting before his brain shuts down.

John snorts a laugh. "Yeah, okay, I get it. I know this has been hard, and I'm proud of you for pushing through it. I just hope you'll think about things more."

"John, I probably won't be able to _stop_ thinking about this conversation for a long time."

The waiter arrives with their third beers then, and Alan takes a large gulp as John thanks him.

"Fair enough," John says when the waiter disappears. "So tell me what Mackenzie is up to. You said she's going to A&M?"

Alan grins. He loves boasting about his baby girl. "Yes, she's a junior there. Got a full ride scholarship, the smarty pants."

"That's wonderful! What's she studying?"

"She's majoring in electrical engineering with a minor in computer science. She's got a very analytical mind. It's hard to out-logic her."

John laughs. "Wow, I'm impressed. She sounds like she's smart as a whip."

"And then some," Alan agrees. "And she's obstinate as hell. Stubborn spitfire of a girl, she absolutely refuses to accept that she won't get her way."

"That's great, Alan. She's bound to be successful that way. Does she have any hobbies? Is she dating?"

Alan stifles a groan at the idea of his daughter dating. He's definitely not ready for that. "She plays intramural lacrosse, she loves music, plays the piano. And no, she isn't dating, thankfully."

"Isn't it wonderful that times have evolved enough that girls can go to college and study areas that used to only be for men, like computer science and engineering?" John asks, smiling.

"Yes, it is," Alan agrees.

"I think it's great that women have succeeded at securing freedom to pursue whatever interests them, and that they don't have their entire worth defined by getting married and having children," John continues. "They've successfully broken into traditionally male areas and they're thriving."

Alan nods. "Absolutely. Getting married and having children are some of the most noble and natural things a woman can do. But I definitely agree that it's good that women can do other things now, too. Mackenzie would never be satisfied by just being a housewife." Though Alan is really looking forward to seeing her marry and have children, making him a grandfather. Just not yet. She'll be an amazing mother, and he truly believes that she'll enjoy that more than any career.

John's face turns shrewd. "So it's a wonderful thing that women can act like men now, isn't it?"

Alan thinks that was an odd way to phrase it, but he can't disagree with the statement. "Yeah."

"So why is it such a bad thing when men act like women?"

"Shit, John!" he says, reeling. "Where the hell did that come from?" He should have known that John wouldn't drop it. He always did like to push Alan, and when he couldn't make a point straight on, he'd come at Alan sideways. It's a behavior he has loathed and admired equally over the course of their friendship. He scowls at John.

"I'm serious," John says, and Alan can tell he means it. "Women these days can do anything men can do, and they often do it better. And this is a _good thing_. You agreed it was a good thing. So why, if equality between the sexes is desirable, is it _bad_ when a man does something that is traditionally female? Why is it the case that when a man is sensitive, or in touch with his emotions, or if he likes to be submissive on occasion, or if he enjoys activities that are typically thought of as female, such as fashion or shopping, why is that man thought of as a wimp, or a pussy? Why is it looked down upon?"

Alan doesn't really have an answer to that, and he stares at his friend, dumbfounded. "It just is," he says after a moment. And though he suspects that isn't the right answer, Alan doesn't have another one.

"Look," John says, placating. "One of the benefits of having a staunch feminist for a wife is that I learned a lot about feminist theory. So I understand what straight white male privilege is, and it's something I always try to be aware of in myself. I know that society still has a long way to go when it comes to equality between the sexes, but I am a firm feminist myself. And I've noticed that some of the sentiment against gay men has roots in misogyny, actually: It's not okay for a man to be like a woman because women are inferior to men. It's a very deep and subtle belief, and I'm not saying that it's what _you_ believe, certainly not consciously. I'm just trying to draw your attention to it, and to ask you if that could underlie some of your discomfort with Jensen being gay—because it's not okay for him to be like a woman."

Alan sits there, his mouth hanging open. He has no idea what to say to that. He can see a grain of truth to what John's saying, but he doesn't think it applies to him. "I don't think that women are less than men. It's just that men are supposed to be men. If they're acting like women, then it's wrong, not because being a woman is bad, but because they're not behaving like _men_."

John looks at him like he's missing the point. Alan stares back, wondering if John is going to challenge him on this.

Apparently not. "Just think about it. Be aware of the possibility."

Alan sighs, nods, and then takes another swallow of beer. He can feel the alcohol a little now; it's making him feel loose and less argumentative, which can only be good for the discussion. He brings his glass back up to his mouth.

John smiles at him, then, mischief in his eyes. "Hey, Alan," he says, too casually. "Did you know that a lot of straight guys _love_ it when their women go all dominatrix on them in bed?"

Alan chokes on his beer, spraying it across the table. "You asshole!" he wheezes between coughs as John bursts into laughter.

John just keeps laughing, and a moment later, Alan joins him. John always did have a knack for knowing when to pierce the tension in a conversation with humor. This certainly was not the first time it had been at Alan's expense.

"Is that another benefit of having a feminist wife, John?" Alan asks, going for a little retaliation. "She tie you up and spank your ass until it's red? Or does she fuck you with a strap-on? Maybe that's how you know about prostate stimulation."

"Oh-ho! He's not so vanilla after all!" John cackles, pulling his glasses off to wipe at the tears of mirth in his eyes.

"I bet Raquel would be really hot in leather with a riding crop," Alan continues.

John hoots even louder, clapping his hands, his head thrown back. "You have _no_ idea, my friend," he says, winking.

Alan chuckles and then has a flash image of John tied up and begging for relief from his wife as she beats his naked ass with a paddle. "Oh, God, mental pictures!" he groans, rubbing at his eyes to try to scrub the image from his retinas. It doesn't quite work.

John laughs again and then settles back in his chair, looking supremely satisfied with himself.

"Alright, alright, you win," Alan says, conceding their little battle of wits.

"I wasn't entirely joking, though," John says. "A lot of straight men really enjoy being submissive to their women. Find it really hot."

Alan just looks at him, curious. He can see the point.

"It doesn't mean a guy isn't manly enough," John continues. "Do you like it when Donna gets aggressive in bed? Think back to your college days, back when you first got married and fucked all the time. Did she ever tackle you to the bed and ride you like a pony? Did you like letting her take charge? Didn't it turn you on when she really wanted it and told you exactly how she wanted it? Or did you always do it only missionary style, with her lying there like a limp fish?"

At any other time, with any other person, and without three beers in him, Alan would be offended at such questions. He never talks about his sex life with Donna with anyone but her. Now he's just surprised, though he probably shouldn't be. He is glad that there aren't a lot of people at the surrounding tables, at least. "Jesus, John!" he gasps. "That's personal!" Unbidden, Alan relives memories of his wife on top of him, riding him until she comes. He supposes that they do have a pretty vanilla sex life, but he always has liked that position because it allows her to control her own pleasure, and Alan _loves_ to watch her get lost in herself. So maybe John has a point, here.

"I know it is, but I'm trying to get you to understand," John says as Alan is mentally reminiscing. "You don't have to tell me the details of your sex life. Actually, please _don't_. I'm just trying to say that there's nothing wrong with a guy not being the one in control. People have their preferences, yes, but for a lot of men, they enjoy giving their partner the control at least some of the time. And if you actually look at dominant/submissive relationships, you'd see that it's the sub who really calls the shots. The dom gives the sub what he or she needs, so it's the sub who is really in control."

Alan is a bit pole-axed by that and feels his eyebrows creep up his forehead. "You serious?"

John nods. "Yeah. Just think about it. When you're the one in charge, it's your job to make sure that Donna enjoys herself, right? So her needs run the show."

Huh. Alan had never really thought about it like that, but John is right. He always did pride himself on making sure that his wife got her pleasure during sex; he'd always disliked that some men only cared about their own enjoyment.

"I don't actually know a lot about dom/sub relationships or BDSM personally," John continues, "but living in Hollywood, it's impossible to not pick up a little here and there. And I'm not going to say that all dom/sub relationships are like that, and giving and taking control doesn't necessarily mean you're in a dom/sub relationship. But that's not really the point. What I'm really trying to say is that there isn't anything necessarily 'unmanly' about sharing the control. I actually think it's _more_ masculine and respectful—it takes more _strength_ —to let your partner be in charge sometimes. And really, if both partners like what they're doing and get off, what does it matter who fucks who or who was on top? So this issue that you have with Jensen possibly being the one being fucked rather than the one doing the fucking, well, it's more a problem of your ideas about sex rather than any sort of character flaw in Jensen."

So that's where John was going with all of this: Alan's problems with Jensen are more _his_ problems and less anything wrong with Jensen. Alan thinks he might understand the concept, now, even though he doesn't entirely agree. It's a perspective he'd never really considered before, but maybe it's one worth examining further. He sits back and traces his finger along the edges of his empty beer glass, contemplative. His mind is awhirl with everything they've talked about, and surprisingly, Alan doesn't feel quite so frustrated or angry anymore. He's going to have to think about all of this, a _lot_ , and while he still has that deep conviction that being gay is wrong, he feels like he's starting to understand Jensen's side of the argument. Or at least he's in a position where he'll be _able_ to understand. Maybe he and Jensen won't forever be at an impasse, and that thought alone makes Alan's heart feel five times lighter.

"Are you alright?" John asks.

Alan looks up at his friend and smiles. "Yeah... You know what? I think I'm... okay."

John seems to sag in relief. "That's wonderful. I was worried you'd be angry."

"Me, too. But I'm not. I've got a lot to think about, but I feel a lot more optimistic now. Thank you."

John tilts his empty beer glass toward Alan in salute. "S'what friends are for, help you pull your head out of your ass."

Alan chuckles. "Dick."

"Says the ass," John retorts, smirking.

Alan doesn't argue the point, just tips his empty glass toward John in return. "So now what? Feel like getting coffee, or dessert?"

"Yeah, that sounds great. We can spend some time _actually_ catching up. No more of this serious discussion."

The waiter appears then to collect their empty glasses and leaves the check on the table, which John snatches before Alan can reach it. "I invited you, I'm paying!" he insists, stuffing some bills in the folder.

"Fine, then I'll get coffee," Alan says. "There's a great place down the street. They've got killer pastries."

"You got yourself a deal," John says as he stands up.

The room wobbles just a little as Alan stands, and whoa, he's going to have to wait a while before he can drive. "Glad it's within walking distance."

John nods. "And then what? I've got the afternoon completely free."

"There's plenty to do around here. Let's get coffee and walk around a bit. We'll come across something interesting, I'm sure."

"Thank you for coming in!" Rebecca calls to them as they walk past the reception desk, her tongue stud on full display as she speaks. Alan smiles at her, feeling much less annoyed at the piercing than he had earlier.

John pats him on the shoulder when they walk back out into the Texas sunshine. Alan takes a deep breath. It's a gorgeous day.


End file.
